


The Sense of an Ending

by xSouLx



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Brotherly Love, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Hurt Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft Whump, POV Mycroft Holmes, POV Sherlock Holmes, Post-Episode: TFP, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17706983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSouLx/pseuds/xSouLx
Summary: Mycroft had never felt remorse, it was part of his life make decisions, hard ones, but it wasn't his nature finally. After Sherrinford, all around him begins to fall apart and before he loses one of the most important things, he starts to look for a sense to everything he did it.





	1. Alone

 

With his hand he walked the cold and rough floor, Mycroft was laying facedown completely stunned by the effect of the drug, painfully he tried to sit up, and for a moment he tried to remember, he wiped his face from the dust and slowly opened his eyes, the light was too intense, leaning on his legs, looking around what looked like an old electricity deposit, even more confused than before, Mycroft began to look for the cell phone in his clothes, but he didn't have his ID, notebook and telephone had disappeared, leaning on the wall stood up, breathed deeply and unbuttoned his tie. _\- Think -_ he said a little scared.

It was not difficult for him to deduce that he had been kidnapped, the government officer was mentally prepared for this moment for years, with the information that he possessed in his mind, important details of the personalities of England and other countries, Mycroft knew that some day he would be targeted by some criminal organization, somehow he knew that his days would end, poisoned, kidnapped or shot in the head as he walked to the Diogenes Club every morning as usual, it was not something that worried him and less now, after from Sherrinford, the older brother looked once more around him, there was a water bottle with 10 liters  and a packet of cookies, - _Snacks, what considered people!_ \- exclaimed sarcastically, but no message there, there were no windows, after about 20 minutes the older brother noticed something curious, _\- no cameras -_ he thought, unusual, there was nothing, this puzzled him even more, if someone wanted him there, at least that criminal would try to observe him from outside without intervention, like a game, it had always been like that, but instead there was only a small room, with concrete walls painted with a light yellow color, electrical panels and a door of heavy metal that only opens from the outside.

He stood silently behind the door, Mycroft wrinkled his forehead, sharpening his senses as much as possible _\- no sound at all -_ he said surprised, impatient after a few minutes he sat again on the cold floor, he fastened his coat, the temperature of the place started descending abruptly, the government official waited that at some point one of his captors would come to threaten and torture him, in his mind he assumed that this would be or should be, many times he warn to his little brother about this _\- Sherlock! -_ He exclaimed with deep sadness. It had been over 6 months since the Sherrinford incident and almost two long months ago since the last time Mycroft saw the detective.

Sherlock decided to visit Mycroft one night, the two brothers looked at each other, one in front of the other they sitting by the fireplace, without saying a word, for long minutes, in the awkward silence, Mycroft tried to break the tension, - _Sherlock ... I just try… all these years ..._ \- he hesitated, were the last words of Mycroft to his little brother, the attempt was in vain to justify himself or rather in the Mycroft's way, apologize, suddenly Sherlock got up and left the room, the next day the government official found a note: **_"I need time don’t look for me"_** , that was it, Mycroft was tempted to materialize his influences and locate his little brother, but he understood that many things had changed between them, Sherlock no longer needed protection or the influence of the older brother, the detective's message had not been a warning, it was a threat. Sherlock was no longer under the omnipresent shadow of Mycroft. It was evident that his little brother would be with Irene Adler, The Woman.

24 hours had passed, Mycroft timidly decided to open the bottle of water and drink from it, certainly he doubted its contents, but his mouth was dry and the headache would not let him think, had not eaten in hours, it was only his instinct, he needed keeps the energy in his system, the transparent liquid drained down his throat, cold and it burned his stomach, but finally pleasantly, the older man sighed, with his back leaning against the wall looked at the ceiling above him, a small smoke extractor still worked,  the kidnappers will show up in the room at any time, he knew this and more, the psychological torture was also something his, for years some soviet spies, ukrainians and serbs, others from criminal international organizations fell into Mycroft's hands, like Moriarty, he left the criminals alone for hours to make their own thoughts do their thing, solitary confinement, no food no water, when finally Mycroft show up in front of them, his victims were docile and weak, without sleep, he knew this old tactic for years, he subtly smiled and supported his chin in the arms, he just had to wait patiently.

On the fourth day the lilac package seemed irresistible, curiously the strange snack brought to him memories of childhood, _\- Cadbury, with chocolate chips -_ Mycroft read, his mouth salivated intensely, he opened the package, the soft scent of vanilla essence with a subtle touch of cinnamon, the same way like a child he took the first biscuit and devoured it in one bite, the pasty mixture of ingredients seemed the most delicious thing he had ever eaten in months, when the older brother was preparing to eat the second biscuit when a dry noise was heard from the door, he instinctively stood up and put the packet of cookies in one of the pockets of his coat, he could feel his heart beating hard, he was terrified, the moment he expected had finally arrived, but nothing happened, the door was still sealed and the unknown noise probably came from an old pipe, after a few minutes Mycroft release his breathing and he supported his back of the pillar of the gloomy place, a fugitive _thoughts_ _passed_ through _his mind…_ maybe he'll never get out of there.

With the light constantly on, Mycroft could only deduce one thing, that when the temperature was dropped abruptly in the place, it was night, on average nine endless hours of cold, the older brother struggled to stay awake not to die of hypothermia, he walked from corner to corner in the room to keep your body warm, seven nights of this routine, - _Where are you, Sherlock?_ \- Mycroft repeated loudly almost desperately as he scrubbed his frozen hands on his body, assuming someone looked for him, assuming his status was: missed, even so, at this moment he could think that the only thing that would make him happy, it was to see his little brother cross that door, he looked at the bottle of water, less than half of its contents and only three cookies, Mycroft had rationed what was left of supply, a cookie daily, and no more than seven sips of water, but there were minutes when Mycroft was writhing of pain, these stomach ache it left him without breathing.

The ground was cold but tolerable, he started coughing it was hard for him to recover his breathing and his heart was beating hard at the slightest effort, he was fatigued and sore, it was a sure thing he would die dehydrated or pneumonia, starvation was the last option to him,  any way, this form of death was cruel, Mycroft calculated a week more of life after the water ends, he still couldn't figure out where he was, he looked at each electrical panel, but there were no plates of origin, his brilliant mind couldn't deduce it, the older brother looked again and again and frustrated he kicked one of the panels, this small effort was enough for him to fall to the ground completely fatigued, but still, without he being able to answer the basic question; - _Why has not anyone come?_ \- he was sure that the British Government would look for him, his close friendship with the Queen, he knew that one day the relationship with the monarchy would save him, as a counselor and faithful servant, no one had a greater privilege than Mycroft and Lady Smallwood would put her best men to look for him, but Mycroft already knew how MI6 and its henchmen worked, most of them Incompetent, the older brother could only trust Sherlock.

Mycroft looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes, he deeply regretted - I never told him - he thought, it was true, he had never expressed it, only once _"your lost would break my heart",_ in Mycroft's style was the closest thing to a "thanks" or "I love you", depending on the circumstances, but he had full confidence in Sherlock, more than anyone else in the world, after Sherrinford, Mycroft knew that his little brother was ready to face the world and anything,  alone - _Maybe it's time to retire, I'm old for these stupid things_ \- Mycroft sighed deeply, with some sadness, the great reasons to belong to the British government had been Sherlock and Eurus, always.

His body _twisted_ _in pain_ , the gastric juices were implacably painful after days without eating, and Mycroft knew the process, his mind full of information knew what was happening to his body, the starvation consisted of three phases, the first and the shortest the body consumes all the glucose, as a result the people feel hungry, six hours without eating the lack of glucose causes headache, after this comes the first metabolic change and person enter phase two of starvation, ketosis, when the body burns fat, this process the longest, it can last for weeks, where the internal organs painfully begin to atrophy, but ... if water is consumed - _Not in my case_ \- Mycroft spoke aloud as he took the bottle with water and drank a small sip of water, only  seven sips in a day, no more for him, the human being can only live between two to seven days without water, just probability,  the older brother was determined to drink his own urine if that depended his life, he divide a cookie gently and returned it to the package, and the he put it to his mouth until it was dissolved on the tongue.

He woke up scared and confused, the attacks of compulsive vomiting did not let him sleep, Mycroft slowly turned his head, his mouth tasted like bile and he could not afford a sip of water, not now, he looked with wishes at the package of cookies, only there was one and the spit ran down the chin, he ran his dry hands over his face to cleanse himself, the beard had grown enough for him to be mistaken for a Taliban and the clothes were completely dirty, the older brother had completely lost sensibility to the smell of your own body and organic waste in a bucket in the corner of the room

Fifteen days locked up, Mycroft took the package of cookies in his hands, that purple package, with his fingers, gently took one of the chocolate chips and put it on his tongue, the taste was unforgettable ... unforgettable, he smiled with satisfaction – _unforgettable!_ \- the government server repeated again and again while still holding the package of cookies in his hand, suddenly his smile vanished, Mycroft looked at his hands and terrified dropped the package of cookies on the floor, as if he had seen a ghost, he stood up abruptly and put his left hand in his heart, the image in his mind, the memory clear as if it had been yesterday. – _Can’t be!_ \- he said almost screaming in anguish, his eyes lost, he blanched completely, terrified by the memory of that autumn afternoon, it was the day after the Musgrave fire, Mycroft was the last to see Eurus leave, his parents never said goodbye.

\-  Will you go to see me, Mike? - asked Eurus with his little hands intertwined. Mycroft instinctively looked at his uncle Rudy, who was leaning on the hood of the black car, he couldn’t answer, or rather he did not want to, but finally nodded with a slight smile on his face. A small lie was all that the older brother needed to continue with his life, but he never imagined that this gesture would have consequences.

\- you know, the trip is long ... - said the chubby Mycroft trying to distract his little sister, - so ... I brought you this - The eyes of the little girl shined and it was impossible for Mycroft not to smile.

\- Cookies ... and with chocolate chips! - exclaimed Eurus fascinated with the gift of her older brother and hugged him, while holding the bottle with water and the package of cookies. He opened of Eurus's backpack and put the little gift there, he felt a strange rejection, he love his little sister from the bottom of his heart, but when she hugged him he wanted to push her away, the confused feeling depressed him more.

Mycroft horrified by the memory, closed his eyes, - How could I forget it? - He said softly. - What do we say about coincidences, Sherlock? - This little memory of his childhood shook him deeply.


	2. Falling

He dropped his arms, incredulous and defeated, once again, << Sherlock was right ... the game ... never ends - he thought. >> , his heart beat against his chest as if it were a sledge-hammer, horrible _thoughts flooded his mind_ , he began to cough, anguished, the government official fell to the floor without being able to recover his breathing, with his hand he tried to reach the water bottle, but in the effort he fainted.

Mummy Holmes once thought that Mycroft suffered from asthma attacks, but after visiting a doctor, the diagnosis was categorical; panic attacks, a legacy of his relationship with Eurus. After regaining consciousness, he cleaned his face saliva and remembered with shame the many situations in which Sherlock helped him with a paper bag in his face, Mycroft get hyperventilated until he fell unconscious in Sherlock's arms, the nightmares were so real at the time. Lying down he turned his body to look at the ceiling, - _Eurus and Moriarty_ \- when Mycroft pronounced their names out loud, and _his eyes_ flashed with resentment - _Like Victor Trevor I'll never go out here_ \- He said with resignation, now it all made sense, the reason why he couldn't remember the events days before his kidnapping,  why nobody had come yet, they didn't want the information that Mycroft could have, no cameras, Eurus didn’t need to see him suffer and die, he just needed to imagine it and wish it.

The older brother knew that the possibility of Sherlock finding him in the next few days was almost nil - _Eurus, my little sister…_ \- he said aloud, his eyes got wet, something again broke his heart - _Eurus ... Eurus ... Why?_ \- The answer was obvious even for the less intelligent person, but Mycroft in the back of his heart harbored the possibility that Eurus would forgive him - Moriarty - his eyes darkened, that name only meant deeper hatred.

His blue eyes were fixed on the smoke extractor, the only way out, from the floor to the ceiling there were approximately eighteen feet, the older brother was determined, he wasn't used to improvise, he had always been a cold calculator, his habit natural, but this time Mycroft felt a great pressure, it was something instinctive;  survive, he wouldn't leave this world without first fighting, fatigued and the energies almost get vanished on him, he couldn't wait anymore, Sherlock wouldn’t come to rescue him, and the only escape option was that smoke extractor, Mycroft took off his coat and jacket from his blue three-piece suit, he knew he wasn't a field man but he should try, - _each electrical panel has a height of 9.85 by 13 feet wide and plus 6 feet of my height_ \- Mycroft said thinking - _only 2 feet would be missing_ ... _in theory I could reach it with my arms ..._ \- he knew it was not enough, not if he wanted to climb, he looked around and saw the bucket in a corner, he poured the fetid content while covering his nose, he folded some tinplates with his teeth maybe he could use it as a screwdriver, he took a pair of electric cables, the insulation of the electric cable's made of rubber, it was gnawed, but he would use them as improvised rope, some security, for a moment Mycroft looked between his fingers at the cables thinking that maybe the best option for him it was put one cable around his neck, - _a tempting possibility_ \- said Mycroft with a smile, but it was his last option if he fail.

Mycroft rolled one end of the cables at his waist and the other in the bucket, put his right foot on one of the many knobs that had the electrical panel and with all his strength he pushed himself up, the older brother is slim as well and it wasn't difficult for him to reach the top edge of the panel with his left hand but at that moment this caused him a huge terror, the entire structure was unstable, it moved dangerously, Mycroft realized that the panel wasn't anchored to the floor, a detail no less important, but he needed very little to go up completely, he didn't want to go back, when he reached the top of the panel he looked down and began to raise the bucket, the effort quickly exhausted him, the older brother breathed harshly, his mouth was dry and he unbuttoned a few more buttons of his shirt to breathe better, when he raised his face to see the extractor he saw a “black thing” at the end of the panel that shone, the light was dim in that place, he tried to stand up but the structure moved again – _Damn it!_ \- Mycroft exclaimed scared, h _e_ was deathly pale _and_ _perspiring profusely_ , his arms trembled; it was only about ten feet tall but from above it looked much more frightening.

He slipped with the help of his arms through the thirteen-foot-long electrical panel; the “black thing” was a gun and a note under it - _Libera nos frater meus_ \- Mycroft read aloud, a deep rage and incomprehension invaded him, Eurus not only had locked him up, he suspected she was one step ahead and surely she knew what the end would be, << _Mycroft isn't as smart as he thinks he is - Eurus told Sherlock once._ >> .He threw the gun to the ground with the note, _the_ feeling of _despair_ _in the_ _face_ _,_ \- _I must continue ... I can do it ... emotions cloud the thought_ \- he said while trying to control his feelings. Mycroft stood slowly, was very close to the smoke extractor, it wouldn’t be easy get out the huge thing but not impossible, the good news is that if he gets to climb, it wouldn’t be a problem, but he should only get there.

Then he put the bucket on top and climbed on it, Mycroft held his breath in every movement and didn't want to look down, the vertigo isn't a problem for him he didn't want to lose concentration, his heart was beating strongly in his chest, with his hands finally he reached the extractor - _I got you!_ \- exclaimed triumphantly and a smile of relief was drawing on his tired face, very slowly he passed one end of the cable and he tied it tightly to one of the blades of the extractor, this at least gave him some security, then with his fingers he went through the circular structure in search of screws, it was only eight, Mycroft closed his eyes and hoped that the piece of tin could serve him as a screwdriver, he wasn't able to see what he was doing but he could feel the screw starting to turn, it wasn't easy and he was gasping with every effort, the sweat ran through his neck to his chest.

When the older brother got to loosen the first screw, he started to cough, he felt dizzy and he was too thirsty, he supported his wet head on his outstretched arm trying to rest a moment, he was fatigued, unable he move a single centimeter, he remained with his eyes closed thinking about his little siblings, wondering if Sherlock also wanted to see him dead, Mycroft passed his hand over the forehead, removing his sweat – _Set us free, Mycroft!_ \- said the voice, the older brother turned sharply towards the door, his left foot caused the bucket to tilt, the pupils of his eyes dilated, _panic_ , the bucket slid under his feet, _terror_ , for a thousandths of a second, all the weight of his body clung to the weak cable tied, the sudden movement sounded like a whip hitting the air – _nooo!!_ \- He reached to scream terrified, the improvised rope gave way quickly, _abyss_ , only a sharp blow was heard, he moaned slightly, and Mycroft's cry of anguish faded, at the end of the room the bucket kept turning, he didn't move anymore.

  _\- Mycroft, Mycroft! , can you hear me?_ \- Sherlock _banged_ _on_ _the door_ several times, but got no answer.

_\- Sherlock there is no one there, that door has been sealed for years, like this electrical substation_ \- said DI Lestrade with his hands on his waist.

_\- I know that my brother is there!_ \- He shouted at them, his eyes were black.

_\- How do you know, Sherlock?_ \- said John doubting his friend.

_\- I don't know, just ..._ \- the detective looked at his friend _\- If your sister, John ..._ \- The doctor made a gesture with his palm down, he didn't want to hear him - _Please, listen to me, if your sister was lost… Do you wouldn't do the impossible to look for her?_ \- John turned to look at the detective, Sherlock was emaciated, days without being able to sleep; the face of his friend was of a deep hopelessness - _Please, John, please!_ \- John looked surprised at Sherlock, beg, it wasn't one of the virtues of the consultant detective.

_\- Do it, Greg_ \- John said softly and Lestrade waved his hand, a special Scotland Yard squad placed explosive in the lock.

_\- Clear!_ \- Someone shouted.

 

The explosion was controlled, when an agent of Scotland Yard opened the door a beam of light crossed the dusty hall, the younger brother smiled and started to run, passing to the side of the agent who was motionless, Mycroft lay on the floor, facedown and his head surrounded by a pool of dark blood, a few inches of his hand was the gun << _Mycroft, what have you done? - Sherlock thought, his throat tightening and his heart racing._ >>

_\- John?_ \- He took Mycroft's hand, it was cold - _John?_ \- Sherlock repeated, he was shocked by the scene, while listening to Greg asking for an ambulance.

_\- Let me check him, Sherlock, stand aside ..._ \- John pushed his friend back, and checked Mycroft's pulse - _Weak, still breath…- John crouched- his pupils slightly reactive and his skin is cold, that means… he had low blood pressure_ \- John knew it was serious. _\- Mycroft has lost a lot of blood_ \- The Doctor sighed sadly to himself.

_\- The ambulance will be here in a few minutes!_ \- Greg said quickly, barely audible. Sherlock nodded, he bent down to take his brother's hand again.

_\- Sherlock, raise Mycroft's head a little_ \- John ordered.

_\- We must look for the exit of the bullet… we must stop the hemorrhage_ \- John looked at his friend strangely.

_\- What's it, John?_ \- He asks scared.

_\- There is no exit or entry of the bullet_ \- John checked again - _I think he has a crack in his skull_ ... the position head and gravity helped to stop the bleeding a bit ... – Sherlock sucked in his breath quickly and then let it escape in a relieved sigh when he realized that Mycroft hadn't tried to commit suicide.

_\- Did they hit him with the gun?_ – The detective aks.

_\- It's hard to say, but I doubt it_ ... _I don't know_ \- Sherlock took off his coat and with it carefully covered the body of Mycroft, John took the paper, he did not know Latin and handed it to his friend - _set us free, brother mine_ \- . Both friends looked at each other without saying a word, once again Sherlock looked at his hands sadly with Mycroft's blood, he finally looked for his brother's cold hand under his coat and closed his eyes while they waited. They had spent 13 long days without knowing anything about Mycroft, but Sherlock wouldn't let them try to burn his heart, not again.

 

The minutes seemed hours and the hours an eternity, the ambulance's siren kept ringing; John wondered if it would be the last time as he will see Sherlock and Mycroft together, he wondered if this would ever end.

At the end of the hallway was Molly, but John stopped, under her arms and just stopped, Sherlock turned to wait for his friend while Mycroft entered through the emergency door.

_\- John?_ \- The doctor brought his hands to his face.

_\- Sherlock_ \- he paused and their eyes met again _\- I can't continue with this… anymore... I just can't_ \- John's eyes shone in the dim light.

_\- What are you talking about?_ \- Sherlock couldn't understand and his breathing increased.

_\- Look, Sherlock, your brother needs you, Mycroft ... he always needed you, but Mycroft never told you because he doesn't know how ..._ \- Sherlock looked at him surprised - _The truth is that and I can't continue... with this ... I'm sorry...but I can't_ \- John turned and disappeared into the hallway corner, his footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, Sherlock was motionless, unable to understand what had happened, his best friend just was gone.

 

* * *

 


	3. Memories

**Sherlock, he's on his way home. Molly**

John put the cell phone on the coffee table, ran his hand down his neck, it was a gesture of nervousness and discomfort.

_-  Sherlock is coming, isn’t?_ \- She asked seriously.

_-  Yes ... - John looked at his little daughter_ \- ... that's right –

_-  I'll give you some privacy ..._ \- Mrs. Hudson said as she took Rosie in her arms.

_-  Thank you Mrs. Hudson it's nice to be able to count on someone yet_ \- he said sighing deeply. Mrs. Hudson walked to the door and before leaving she looked at John who was sitting on the sofa.

_-  John?_ \- The doctor turned his head; a flash of sunlight crossed the room it could see the dust particles floating.

_-  We've been friends for years, and we've been through a lot, this is not different ... do not be hard on him, he's our friend_ \- John nodded, but he knew that maybe he couldn't control himself, it had been more than six months since Sherlock decided to leave, _< < the greatest crisis of his career, according to him »_, but John found it difficult to believe that Sherlock was not capable of dealing with his past, Eurus.

 

John heard the door closing and the detective ran up the stairs, the doctor intertwined his fingers in frustration; Sherlock paused to enter the room and slowly raised his head while the detective took off his coat and scarf.

_-  How is Mycroft?_ \- By the expression of Sherlock, John deduced that the condition of the Sherlock's brother wasn’t serious or simply his friend avoided showing his feelings, as always.

_-  He has a intracranial injury, two fractured left ribs, the distended vessel and ..._ \- Sherlock paused trying to resume his breathing - … _product of the massive blood loss while in surgery in his head his heart stopped for 70 seconds but the doctors applied CPR successfully ... thanks for asking_ \- The detective replied coldly and John made a gesture of discomfort on his face, _< < You are a complete moron, Holmes - thought John >>_. _\- Now I will shower and I need to sleep ... I must go back to the hospital in a few hours, if it doesn’t bother you_ \- Sherlock turned, but before he could enter the hall.

_-  Yes, it bothers me!_ -John stood up to face his friend.

_-  What happens now, John? Don't I pay the rent on time?_ \- Said sarcastically, John impatiently passed his hand across his face.

_-  No, no, Sherlock, it's not that_ \- John approached Sherlock - _will not you go to capture the person who hurt Mycroft?_ \- Omitting facts isn't exactly lying, reasonably for Sherlock, Lady Smallwood had captured all Moriarty's accomplices, it was only a matter of time before a name came to light _< < Eurus >>,_ The detective turned his eyes to the floor and John started to laugh - _No, you will not go anywhere, of course you will not go !!_ \- John stepped back feigning surprise - _because there is nothing to look for, isn't it? ... The story repeats itself ... isn’t it? ... Eurus…it was Eurus_ \- John sentenced. Sherlock didn’t nod, he just remained silent. - _How could I be so stupid? How could I imagine that everything would be different now?_ \- He cast an inquisitive look on his face _\- But nothing changes, the Manson family is back to its old hobbies! Bloody great!!_ \- John let out a sarcastic smile.

_\- Don’t mock, John!_ \- Sherlock exclaimed angry pointing his hand at his friend.

_-  Don't I mock of you?, You come here after six months of your "meditation retreat" to save your brother who almost died yesterday, brother who asked you for help and you denied to him_ \- John was angry as hell.

_-  I remind you that you also denied to him, John!_ \- Sherlock shouted - … _and of course it was not a meditation retreat, I was in a case_ \- he say in a low voice.

John took his cell phone and put it in his pocket, sigh deeply disappointed, - _I denied the help to Mycroft because that way  I thought  you would come back, I thought you would help him, after all is your brother, he has always been for you, but I was wrong ... you still don't get it, Sherlock_ –

_-  Realize what?_ \- Sherlock asked intrigued.

_-  Mycroft will die and you can’t do anything about it_ \- The cold words from John hurt the detective's heart.

_-  I will not leave my brother alone again_ \- Sherlock took the annoying coat in his hands.

_-  Sherlock, listen to me well, Mycroft is the apple of discord, the annoying fuzz in the coat, the last obsession of your little sister ... and not only of her, of what remains of Moriarty's henchmen_ \- John grabbed his suitcase and walk to the door.

_-  Now I'm here, nothing will happen to him._ \- Affirmed Sherlock resentful.

_-  That's your problem Sherlock, you think you can save everyone, but it's not like that, Mary wouldn’t think the same_ \- Sherlock turned and looked at his friend, he was hurt.

_-  WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!_ \- Both Sherlock and John seem enraged beyond what the situation seems.

_-  NO?, Your problem is that you think you have everything in control, you left a few months and when you arrived you almost have to organize the Mycroft's funeral, you also told me that you could control Eurus and that you two had formed a relationship of trust, but It's not like that, you lied to me again, Sherlock_ \- John looked straight into Sherlock's eyes, seemed tired and in every word he could see the sadness in the eyes of his friend, but the doctor wouldn't stop this time - _Now I have a daughter that I must protect, Sherlock… for god sake!!..._ _This is not a game for me!!..._ _It's my priority to protect her; if something happened to her I would never forgive me... even you, Sherlock, NEVER!!...Do you understand?_ \- _Listen to me, I'm tired of hearing about your family, and I’m tired of the bloody Mycroft’s calls, that is enough! ... Me and Rosie will spend a few days at Molly's house, sure Mycroft will want to spend a few days with you ... you people have a lot to talk about ..._ \- John said.

_-  My brother is in a coma, John, but if he wakes up one day I'll tell him_ \- Sherlock spoke sadly, the doctor stopped for a moment at the door and put his hand on the frame, shook his head negatively and left.

 

Sherlock was completely silent, John was right, he always had it, the detective rested his head in his hands, thinking but he didn’t see a quick solution to the family conflict. It was beginning to rain in London, the repetitive sound of water hitting the pavement did nothing but bring him images of Mycroft, and he could not erase that image, his brother lying on the floor with his head bloodied. In the gloom of the room a familiar and ghostly figure appeared.

_-  Alone? A drink?_ \- He said, while showing a bottle of Brandy, Sherlock smiled softly - _That's a yes for me!_ \- Greg exclaimed as he walked to the kitchen, from the cabinet he took two glasses and put them on the coffee table, the brown liquid drained through the glass and the wood aroma permeated the place.

_-  I don't drink from John's marriage_ \- said Sherlock melancholy.

_-  It has spent a long time dear friend_ \- Sherlock raised the glass and then ingested all its contents. - _Easy, boy!_ -Exclaimed Lestrade, - _We have all night ...by the way I checked the old electric deposit…_ \- Greg ran his tongue through his dry lips.

_-  So?_ \- Sherlock looked at him expectantly.

_-  I found some signs, your brother tried to escape through the ventilation duct or at least that was his intention_ \- Greg supported his body on the couch and interlaced his legs.

_-  Unsuccessfully, obviously, that explains the blow in his head_ , _the fall…_ –

_-  Not only that_ \- added Lestrade.

_-  An unfeasible option, that indicates he was desperate, was that or put himself a shot in the temple_ \- Sherlock sighed and a great sigh and opened his eyes.

_-  Precisely_ \- Greg leaned on his back with the glass in his hand looked at his friend - _What is the prognosis?_ \- Sherlock made a gesture of pain; the question caused a twinge in his heart.

_-  Uncertain_ \- Sherlock swallowed some saliva - _Something is certain, it is likely that he has sequels, for some reason his lungs and heart are weak ..._ \- The detective _closed his eyes_ and, when the darkness hit him, the memories came _< <Eurus>> _\- _Well, my brother, at childhood was always a child sickly, several episodes of panic attacks, eating disorders, so it's probably a bit of that_ \- Greg couldn't help but look at him with concern, Mycroft after all was his boss - _until an hour ago he still remains in a coma, assuming the psychological consequences that may be brought to the knowledge that our little sister tried to kill him ... I would say ... that his recovery will take time, six months or more_ \- said Sherlock sadly while he compulsively spun the brandy in his glass, these words weren’t in vain, deeply, the detective missed Mycroft.

_-  He'll be fine, Sherlock, you'll see!_ \- Greg hit his friend's shoulder in an attempt to cheer him up - _A man as powerful as Mycroft can get out of any business, he's used to solving problems_ \- said the agent of Scotland Yard, but it was a half truth, _< < Iceman >>,_ Sherlock wasn't fooled himself . - _By the way, when I went to the hospital today they had the floor completely guarded by intelligence agents, I had to show my ID three times ... three times Sherlock! THREE TIMES TO THOSE BASTARDS OF MI6!_ \- He said indignantly showing only three fingers of his left hand.

_-  You're not Sherlock Holmes, that's all_ \- said Sherlock laughing.

_-  Thank you very much! Thank you!_ \- Greg's face turned red with rage - _You're a little prick! Did you know? The next time you need me I'll remind you of this!_ -

_-  Not a "little prick" after all, and If you've told me many times_ \- Greg smiled too, seeing his friend laugh was all he needed.

 

Sherlock covered Gregory Lestrade with a blanket; he was sleeping peacefully on the sofa, completely drunk. The detective threw the last contents of brandy bottle in the dishwasher, looked at his watch, 5:30 am, and heard the taxi honking. After each rain the part that surrounded the river Thames filled with a thick fog, Sherlock had rarely noticed this, really the city was what provided his pleasures, drugs and cases, but since, Sherlock had met his past , Eurus, London no longer seemed to be the place where the detective get fed like a vampire, the cases were no longer of interest, wandering through the alleys and abandoned houses was no longer enough, after Sherrinford the detective had remained locked in his piece for long weeks, he only get out of 221B to see his little sister.

 

Sherlock couldn’t stop thinking about Eurus and Mycroft knew that the conflict between them would get worse, one sure thing was that Mycroft would seek vengeance, and the detective wasn’t sure how to avoid it, _< < A family reunion - he thought >>_ , but he laughed at this, the possibility was so remote, a call interrupted his thoughts - _Mummy Call_ \- His parents by the way, absent most of his life, not only for Eurus, also for Mycroft, even though his older brother had disappeared fifteen days ago and they were warned of it, his parents continued with his life in Massachusetts, the favoritism of his parents by Sherlock even now at this time was disturbing and incomprehensible to the detective, Mycroft was also his son. Sherlock once looked at the cell phone but didn’t answer.

 

Upon his arrival at St Barts, the detective closed the door of the room, the report remained the same; there are no changes, Sherlock looked at the mechanical movement of Mycroft's chest, he still had support from the mechanical ventilator, breathed a sigh of relief that his brother was still alive, tired he took off his coat and placed it on the sofa. A bag of blood hung from a hook and it connected to his brother's left arm, his head was bandaged and half of his face completely deformed, Mycroft was unrecognizable, Sherlock refused to take his hand, a little because of the guilt, a little because of the anger he felt that moment, _< <Why didn't you wait for me?, just two hours, Mycroft, only two hours and none of this would have happened - the detective thought >>._

 

Sherlock tilted his body and leaned against the window, totally oblivious to what London was going through, the people walking under the intermittent spring rain, from time to time sunlight penetrated the gray clouds. - _Brother mine, you're missing a beautiful sight_ \- said Sherlock and turned his head expecting to see some reaction of Mycroft, but nothing happened. - _Molly and your doctor recommended to me that it is good therapy to talk to people in a coma, although frankly it seems stupid and you would agree, dear brother_ \- Sherlock paused, he wasn’t sure to continue, he felt ridiculous talking with someone who wasn’t listening to him, but when Sherlock saw his reflection of him and his brother in the glass, Mycroft's in the bed full of machines that kept him alive, for the first time he realized that he would be willing to do anything for his older brother as like shooting himself in Sherrinford.

 

Sherlock couldn’t remember when it had been the last time they had spoken without ironies, without hurting each other, maybe they had never spoken sincerely, he entwined his arms and as if pretending to be heard, he sighed without knowing where to begin, he can only think of what like to say to Mycroft if he were really awake.  - _Everything is time I was in Vik, a small town in the south of Iceland, surely you already knew, just I needed ... I needed to be alone to remember you and Eurus_ \- Sherlock's throat tightened - _For years you influenced my mind, but I never understood what you were looking for, all those phrases taken from a philosophy book, all those words of << Don’t get involved >> , you just wanted to keep it from suffering like you did _\- The consultant detective took the chair that was next to the wall and placed it next to Mycroft's bed -   _An emotional child you said I was. Then I remembered a winter day, we couldn’t go out to play, because outside the snow was more than one meter high, I was in my 6 years old, I'm boring all the time and you were trying to keep my mind with busy things and that moment I asked you to explain the solar system, we were in my room and you sat together to me in the bed, I remember that your eyes shone with emotion because you like astronomy_ \- Sherlock smiled he seemed to be there at that moment - _in my mind I couldn’t understand how it was possible for planets to float in the universe, you explained to me the Newton's law of universal gravitation again and again, but for me they were just equations ... I wanted to see it with my own eyes ..._  - Sherlock paused as he looked at Mycroft's monitor, his heartbeat went up slightly and the younger brother felt some hope - _I remember that the door burst open. <<He's stupid, don’t you see, Myke?, He just knows playing at being a pirate, it will not be anything else, it will never be smart like Mummy and us, he is like our daddy…weird thing - she said as she knocked on the door and smiled mischievously >> _\- The memory of his little sister shook him, - _then you took my shoulder with both hands and told me that it could be what I wanted in my life, that no matter what I chose, you would be proud of me, you knew I was different, but anyway you loved me_ \- Sherlock took the Mycroft's hand - _It was then that you confessed to me that you wanted to be an Astronaut, Mycroft the astronaut, Who would have bet on that?, you were just a boy, it was your dream_ \- Sherlock looked sadly at his brother. - _The days were months and you left with Uncle Rudy, and then your dream vanished, your first loss I think, and now you are the man you are because you didn't have choose, and nobody was in that process with you... I was very immature and stupid to realize myself it ...now I can see and I don’t want to lose you_ \- Sherlock closed his eyes. He wept. He didn’t try to stop himself but for once surrendered to it, choking and shaking with grief, gulping the room air, inhaling the cold and bitter odor of the antiseptic. He felt oddly apart from himself, as if he had divided into two people, one crying and the other watching him cry.

 

* * *

 


	4. Waiting.

There was only waiting for the long medical evaluation, he pressed his coat against his chest, anxiety and nervousness, a part of the distressed Sherlock's heart was quiet, Mycroft had finally awakened, and also he felt that the constant company of Molly had helped him to hold himself these days.

He looked at her sweetly, of all the people in his life Molly had always been there, months without speaking, Sherlock was beginning to feel that he had been a real jerk for having left all this time. The hospital hallway was completely silent, the dawn had finally fallen in London, the soft sunlight slowly began to appear on the horizon, and a warm feeling invaded him, side by side.

 

_-  You must talk to John, Sherlock, it's been six days_ \- Molly broke the silence between them as she took his hand. - _You'll be better if he comes back to your life_ –

_-  Talk, I think that will be inevitable ..._ \- Sherlock said coldly.

_-  I know you're hurt, Sherlock, but you must also understand John's situation ... Your sister ..._ \- Sherlock abruptly cut off the conversation.

_-  My sister, it's family matters ... she will not hurt them, Mycroft on the other hand is the one that worries me_ \- She sneak a look at him, Molly had tried many times to talk to him, but it was useless, the detective refused to talk his sister.

_-  Listen, Rosie misses you a lot._ \- The detective's eyes flashed, and a smile formed on his face. That little girl has captivated him from the beginning and in many ways.

_-  Me too, Molly, me too ..._ \- It had been a nostalgic night, Sherlock had the impression that everything would soon return to normal soon, finally he turned his head _\- For now, I need to be here, Molly ..._ \- She squeezed his hand and just nodded, she look into his eyes, his eyes were of deep anguish and probably of blame, Molly saw him cry for the first time sitting by Mycroft's bed, she was behind the door in silence, she never mentioned it to him, it would be a secret between them.

_-  Coffee?, The cafeteria must have already opened and it will be a long day_ \- She looked at her watch, Molly understood Sherlock's affliction, she saw people coming daily to the morgue, many of them in shock, unable to have the courage to identify their dead relatives, unable to contain their tears, she knew that feeling.

_-  Thank you_ \- the detective said, his voice was soft as she liked it. Molly fixed her hair and walked into the hallway with her hands in the pockets her white coat.

 

Sherlock was still watching the beautiful spring day from the window, the lack of sleep had exhausted him completely, his mind was a draw a blank just waiting for Molly to return, coffee was all the stimulant he could consume, he had not smoked for weeks and morphine had disappeared from his apartment, he needed to be attentive and see the signs, every person could be a potential suspect to try kill Mycroft.

 

_-  Sherlock!_ \- The scream completely removed him from the trance - the detective turned scared, he could only read Molly's lips << Mycroft >>, Sherlock remained motionless, his heart pounded hard in his chest.

_-  You must be Mr. Holmes's brother? The famous detective, isn’t it?_ \- Sherlock looked up, hesitant, he felt it had been a long time since he resolved a case, since, Lestrade asked him for help to solve a homicide, he had forgotten that he was once << a highly functional psychopath >>.

_-  Yes, I am - said Sherlock, - How is he?_ \- He hastened to say, the doctor sat in front of them.

_-  First I must say that his brother is stable but his still a delicate health condition_ \- Sherlock wrinkled his forehead, the doctor's expression quickly he deduced that something wasn't right _\- So far we have done some tests, there seems to be no amnesia this suggests that there will be no long-term memory loss… -_ said the doctor while passed his hand through his mouth. The detective closed his eyes.

_-  But?_ \- Sherlock asked, his voice was almost inaudible.

_-  My colleagues and myself have found that Mr. Holmes has a disorders in both ears_ –

-  What kind of disorder? - Sherlock began to move his hands impatiently.

_-  His brother has trouble interpreting some sounds ... words to be specific, the neurologist will have to do some other exams but by the previous tests and the results suggest that he has auditory verbal agnosia it is also know by the name of pure world deafness_ \- Sherlock stood up supporting his hand on the chair, suddenly felt that she was going to faint, Molly promptly took him by the arm.

_-  Are you telling me that my brother has a brain damage?_ \- Sherlock put his hand to his chest and could not think of anything else, as if time had frozen in front of him, the news devastated him.

_-  Unfortunately, that's right… a slight lesion in the frontal lobe, that throws us as a result of one of the x-rays that we took to him, because of the place of the damage in his brain we ruled out that the cause was the cardiac arrest, rather it was because of the fall, that type of neurological damage are common in such accidents ... I must be frank ... his brother was very lucky._ \- The doctor added.

_- << Luck? Mycroft has never had it - he thought >> \- How serious is it?_ –

_-  Apparently not so serious, but we can’t rule anything out for now Mr. Holmes_ -

_\- How can you don't know it!_ \- Sherlock shouted angrily.

_\- Sherlock, they do the best they can ..._ \- Molly said trying to reassure him; Sherlock breathed slowly trying to contain his frustration.

_-  Can I see him?_ \- Sherlock under the tone of his voice, he looked at the pale face of Molly, and felt that suddenly the whole place was darkening around him.

_-  Yes, you can ... you should know that your brother needs rehabilitation and the best affection that you can give him, will not be easy for him ... for now we have sedated him a little ..._ \- said the doctor arranging his dressing gown. - _I think your brother will do well to know that he isn't alone ..._ \- said the doctor, - _I recommend to you speaking slowly and precisely, only short words, ... you don't be surprised if he don't answer...Mrs. Hopper could you accompany him?_ \- Molly nodded and clung to Sherlock's arm, both walked down the hallway and stopped at the door, Molly was as shocked as the detective, both looked at each other without saying a word but they knew that nothing would be like before.

 

Sherlock was petrified in front of Mycroft's bed. He slowly approached, his brother's face was pale but with calm expression, gently touched his hand and the older brother move his head, Sherlock smiled slightly, he knew that with that small stimulus part of Mycroft's cerebral cortex still It worked, Dr. Lewis did not lie after all.

 

_-  wat ... water -_ It was the first word that Mycroft tried to say _\- I have ..._ –

_-  Are you thirsty?, Right away_ \- Sherlock said quickly as he took the jug with water and poured the contents into a glass, _\- Let me help you_ \- he said sweetly, his heart and soul could not bear to see his older brother in that way, the British government himself, the most powerful man in England prostrate in a bed, carefully pulled Mycroft's oxygen mask from his face, his breathing was irregular, with his eyes closed Mycroft drank a little but his mouth and throat were still completely hurt by the gastric juices, the water caused him horrible pain and Sherlock could not stop him from vomiting. - _Okay, don't worry ..._ -The detective took a towel and dry Mycroft's chin - _just a little sip this time... ok?_ \- ordered the younger brother.

The water went through his throat as if they were needles nailing constantly, finally resting his head on the pillow, Sherlock took the mask again and placed it gently on the Mycroft's face, he slowly opened his eyes, blue as Sherlock remembered, he stayed silent while Mycroft watched him.

_-  Sherlock?_ \- He said

_-  Yes, it's me ..._ \- Sherlock's eyes twinkled with emotion.

_-  Forgive me ..._ \- Sherlock could not remember when it was the last time his brother had told him this or if it had ever happened, he just smiled.

_-  Don't be silly Mike!, There will be time to talk, but now you need to rest ..., soon I will take you home-_

_-  Home? -_ Mycroft asked, he could barely read the Sherlock's lips.

_-  Yes, home, do you want to live in Baker Street or Pall Mall? I don’t care because I'll stay with you_ \- Mycroft smiled slightly. Sherlock quickly nodded, had forgotten that his brother probably didn’t understand him at all.

_-  Home…_ \- Confused again Mycroft repeated, but this time his eyes got wet, and he understood that something was happening to him.

_-  Yes, home, our house or where you want to go, Mike_ \- Sherlock with his hand carefully wiped the tears from Mycroft's face, Sherlock at that moment suppressed his feelings, stoically he had to show strength himself, in spite of his throat tightened and his heart beat with quickened, slowly the older brother closed his eyes - _Yes, get some rest ... I will be here when you wake up_ -. They never touched each other; they never hugged each other, no, since childhood.

_-  Home ... is where ... the heart is ... brother mine_ \- said with difficulty Mycroft and Sherlock couldn't help but get excited _, << Brother Mine >>_, it seems that it has been centuries since he last heard these words, and Sherlock would have waited a lifetime to hear them.

 

The detective slumped in the chair in the hospital hallway, defeated, anguished and resigned, << We'll probably have to consider the retirement - Sherlock thought, ran his hand nervously over his face >>, Mycroft had been a workaholic all his life , thinking about retirement was not an option, the younger brother could not stop thinking that his omnipresent brother was going to spend the rest of his life with his brain damaged, Sherlock never imagined this, never,  his older brother is human after all, Mycroft is getting old and inevitably he would die some day.

 

** Two months later. **

 

<< Just leave her, Sherlock >>, The detective remembered the only words of Mycroft about Eurus, after weeks it seemed that his older brother was not willing to revenge, his skin was paler, he was thinner and more withdrawn, it seemed like Mycroft did not want to live anymore.

But Sherlock didn't forget her, he couldn't, he had not gone to visit her at Sherrinford, just his parents often go, he spent most of the time with Mycroft, his brother's company had been healer in every way, remembering together moments of their childhood, watching photographs and home movies, Sherlock seemed to understand every day more the reasons that led Mycroft to make certain decisions.

_-  Sherlock, my men are ready ..._ \- said Greg while drinking a glass of juice. But Sherlock stopped for a moment to watch his brother from the kitchen, and he could feel a constant fear, he did not want to lose Mycroft. - _... tonight will be 5 men and a patrol in the street ... if they need support...c'mon don't worry about it will be a quiet night! ..._ \- Lestrade supported his body in the table and ran his hand over the edge of his lips wiping his mouth.

_-  Thanks_ \- said Sherlock, but without paying too much attention what his friend was saying - I'll be back, right away –

 

<< A normal life >>, it was a relative phrase but that Mycroft read daily in the rehabilitation room, never thought to start from scratch in his 50s, he could read, he could write, he could hear his own words in his mind , he could hear the birds in the morning, hear the car horn, and that was so normal for everyone, in perfect synchronization, but he could not understand a word of what people said to him, as if something in his brain had been disconnected forever, << The brain is a surprising organ - he thought >>, sitting on the bench, he watch like the automatic garden sprinkler in a monotonous movement was threw water at the roses, it was an unusually hot summer afternoon, then he looked at Sherlock approaching from the portico with a glass of red fruit juice.

 

_-  Are you sure you do not want to come with me?_ \- Sherlock spoke as he moved his hands quickly. Although Mycroft's condition had improved a lot in recent weeks, the aftermath of the his fall had left something permanent in his life, from the first day he woke up and throughout the rehabilitation Mycroft had to express himself with sign language, and in essence anyone who wants to communicate with him. Mycroft shake his head "no" and signs.

_-  I'm better here_ \- Sherlock sighed deeply and sat down beside him.

_-  I think it would do you good to be with other people_ \- Sherlock signs back.

_-  And I think you should go back to Baker Street with your friend to solve your stupid cases ..._ \- Mycroft gesture towards Sherlock, then signs - _Besides ... What purpose does it have?, I will not be able to talk to anyone ..._ \- the detective knew that the his brother's irritability was the product of an impending depression, it would take time for Mycroft to adapt to his condition, even though his brain damage had been mild, he would never recover.

_-  Myke ..._ \- But Sherlock stopped, he look at the scar that Mycroft had on his head and just shut up, - _will you be okay?_ \- Mycroft just smiled, he did not want to leave him alone.

_-  Go! Rosie's gift is next to the fireplace, tell her; Happy Birthday for me, do will you?_ \- Mycroft signs and Sherlock stare at him with sweetness.

_-  We can go to Club Diogenes tomorrow, what do you think?_ \- It was a temptation, and maybe after all it was the only place where maybe he could communicate with other people without problems.

-  We'll see, now go, you'll be late - the elder brother ordered.

-  I'll be back late don’t wait for me - The younger brother stood up, stretched his back and sighed deeply - Lestrade left his best men to guard this night, everything will be fine - Sherlock sings back.

-  Ok…Wait! - The sunset light illuminated the detective's face and his skin looked almost golden, Mycroft raised his head and looked at his brother, he needed to tell him something, he had waited for years for this moment, he did not know how to tell it, also talking about feelings was not the favorite topic in the Holmes family, Mycroft coughing uncomfortably - _Thank you, Sherlock_ \- disappointed with himself, this was not what he wanted to say to his baby brother, but these words in something made up for the feeling.

_-  You're welcome ... -_ Sherlock signs back and moved restlessly. - He knew that in Mycroft's gratitude there was something else there, a feeling that he did not want to face at the moment. Sherlock just smiled, fixed his scarf and disappeared at the end of the road, without saying anything, by the time the younger brother walked out the door, Lestrade and Molly were waiting for him in the cab, he stopped for a moment, hesitant, he felt the need to return, but the detective look at his watch and do not look back.

 

The strong wind made the branches of the old larch hit the window, gave a ghostly perspective of his study, Mycroft watched from the door a pile of folders stacked on his desk, he wasn't a man who procrastinated but he was still indecisive about his future and it seemed that it was not worth making decisions, he really don't care about the many reports that Lady Smallwood had given him to work with, precisely it was not the way he wanted to end his career in the British government. He sat in the chair in the dark and left the glass of whiskey on his desk, Mycroft could give himself certain privileges while his baby brother was not around, he turned the key of his private drawer, he looked at the cigar and the blue case in the bottom of the drawer, he carefully removed both, he lit a cigarette, leaned back in his chair and blew a puff of smoke at the ceiling. The government official had rehearsed this scene many times as if waiting for the moment to be executed, Mycroft opened the blue case; The 9mm Walter PPK blazed in the darkness, he put in just one bullet in the chamber and pulled the slide back, the perfect mechanical sound ringed throughout the study, the weapon was ready, he was sure that one day he would trigger and the bullet would rupture his "cold" heart.

 

The government official had hidden his suicidal thoughts for years, without anyone noticing it, << Who would care? - he thought >>, but there was only a name he could remember, << Sherlock >>, no doubt his baby brother had changed his attitude with him and Mycroft enjoyed his company, slowly he put the gun in the blue case, it was then that a sound caught his attention, << Laugh?... - He thought >>, Mycroft raised an eyebrow in indignation, he had always thought that the Scotland Yard's staff was not as professional as the secret service of her majesty… but the laughter continued, Mycroft got upset, and left the study but from there could not see the main entrance, he under the stairs and opened one of the curtains, the Scotland Yard's officials were still in the same place as a few hours ago, this surprised him.

 

Suddenly a light crossed the hall came from the library, Mycroft turned his head, scared, did not remember having used the projector, with his fingers pushed the door, << Sherlock? >>, he futilely tried to speak,  << Laughs ... >>, the older brother stared at the home movie, Eurus and Sherlock playing in the living room next to the fireplace, Mycroft remembered that it was he who had made the recording and often he took the camera so as not to go out on the tape, << Who would want to see a chubby child in it? - He stopped the projector and sighed sadly >>. Mycroft closed the door of the library behind him and as he climbed the stairs the clock rang, the clock strikes midnight, he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. When entering his room, the curtains moved because of the wind and from his terrace, he took off his blue jacket threw it on the bed, Mycroft supported his hands on the railing, he looked at the darkness of the sky, he didn't remember a night so dark and warm like that, and only a few seconds later he caught a click behind his head, top of the gun slid back and Mycroft could hear the bullet entering the chamber. Mycroft was paralyzed with fear.

 

-  Libera me - she said.

 

* * *

 


End file.
